I Can Finally Breathe Again
by Vita Fidens
Summary: For one last encore, my friends, a piece of the Dean and Liz story that takes place after A Thousand Broken Wings' main action and before their ending. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you so much for all the support. Rated M
1. Chapter 1

I was being a bitch.

I knew it. Dean knew it. Anyone who came within a five-foot radius of me knew it.

I simply didn't care.

"You are _fucking infuriating_," Dean hissed as he brushed past me backstage.

That's when I knew that he was actually angry with me. Five years together had taught me that when Dean was yelling, I was all right. When he made a simple statement like that and walked away, the Devil would come back later for his due.

I glanced down at the ring on my finger. I knew that I was being unreasonable, and it seemed that this little thing – this gleaming, sparkling symbol of our love – was to blame. Ever since Dean had put it on my finger, I'd turned into a wild, screaming banshee.

I barely understood the transformation, so everyone around me must have been completely baffled by it.

"You'd better be careful, Liz," a voice said from behind me. I turned to see Seth standing there, looking at me warily. "You're not making any friends with all of this nonsense."

I could feel tears coming to my eyes. "I just want everything to be perfect, Seth," I sniffled. "It's the only wedding I'll have in my life."

He stepped forward and hugged me tightly, a small smile on his lips. "You need to talk to Leigh."

"Why?" I asked, allowing myself to relax – for the first time in weeks – into his hug.

"Do you remember what a basket case _she_ was when we got married? Do you remember how she obsessed about every little detail?" I nodded. Leigh had been _Bridezillas_-worthy. "And do you remember what happened?"

I laughed. "It rained. It rained all over your beach wedding."

"It rained," Seth confirmed. "And guess what?"

"What?"

He pulled me back from him and smiled down at me. "We got married anyway. In the pouring rain, with a huge thunderstorm blowing in. And it was still the happiest day of both of our lives." He paused. "Do you see what I'm trying to say?"

"I do," I admitted. "I'll try to tone it down."

"Good." He paused. "Just be happy, Liz. You know that I never expected this to work, but the two of you…when you're happy, there's nobody that can touch you. Be happy. Be untouchable." He paused. "And let Dean wear whatever the hell he wants. It's not going to make a damn bit of difference in the end."

My expression hardened and I glared at him. "I thought you were actually trying to help," I snapped. "But it was just that Dean recruited you to his cause, isn't it?"

Seth's shoulders slumped and he dropped his head in exasperation. "No, Lizzy. I'm trying to tell you that it doesn't really matter."

"Oh yes it does," I snarled. "The only physical reminders we'll have from that day are pictures, and he will _not_ look like a goddamned HOBO in MY wedding photos!"

I stomped off before Seth could continue, my mood darkening more by the minute.


	2. Chapter 2

The car ride back to the hotel was particularly silent that evening.

I was still stewing over the fact that Dean recruited one of my friends – one of my _best_ friends – to his side in this ridiculous debate. I had snapped as much at him when we first got into the car and shushed his puzzled protests.

I didn't want to hear it.

We lapsed into a sullen silence until we were in our room. I undressed and crawled directly into the bed, still angry.

I heard Dean sigh behind me, but I refused to turn around.

"Lizzy," he said, reaching out a hand and lightly touching my back. I pulled away from him. "Liz, come on. You're never like this. Please talk to me."

Dean Ambrose being the reasonable one in our relationship. It hit me over the head how ridiculous I'd become.

I slowly rolled over and met his eyes. We were both exhausted.

"I just want it to be perfect," I said for the second time that night.

He managed a small smile as he sat on the bed beside me. "Baby, I'm going to _marry_ you. It's already perfect."

I closed my eyes to keep the flood of tears back. He reached out and lightly stroked my cheek. "You need to stop this, sweetheart. You're driving yourself insane, and it's driving everyone around you away."

My shoulders slumped in defeat. Hearing it from two different people in one night really solidified the idea that I was probably the one with the problem.

His lips touched mine lightly, his hand stroking back through my hair. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck, inhaling the mixed scent of smoke and tobacco and his soap. It had become pleasantly familiar over the years.

"We've been through worse than a wedding," he murmured close to my ear. "We're going to live through this."

"Yeah," I agreed, comforted by his closeness. "I know."

He pulled back and looked at me with a smile, but it seemed a little tight. "I'll wear your damned tux, too."

The grin that split my lips must have been monstrous, because his own smile was a little more genuine. "Thank you," I said, grabbing his face and kissing him over and over again.

I could feel him shaking his head, but he still kissed me back. "I love you, Lizzy," he said seriously, pulling away from me. "I don't ever want to live without you."

I ran my fingers down his neck. "You won't," I promised, having no way of knowing at that moment that I was lying to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Things actually returned to normal for a few weeks after that.

I attributed this to the fact that all of the wedding bullshit that needed to be handled at the time had been finished. I was able to push aside the nagging thoughts about a caterer or a DJ and just live my normal life.

I had a new concern on one particularly brutal night. Paul dismissed me from my duties, knowing that I would be too distracted to be effective.

I watched from backstage as Dean climbed the ladder and pulled down the Money in the Bank briefcase and immediately screamed with joy, my hands coming up to cover my mouth and tears filling my eyes.

He was beaten and bloody when he came back, but I grabbed him and kissed him fiercely anyway. He pulled me up off of my feet and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.

We were immediately crowded by several well-wishers, smiling and clapping Dean on the back. Many offers were made to buy drinks. He glanced at me briefly before accepting.

"I'm going to shower," he said when we were alone again. He pulled me into his arms and nuzzled my ear with his nose. "Then I'm going to find an out-of-the-way room and fuck you senseless," he murmured. I could feel him grinning.

"Don't take too long," I replied, lightly digging my fingernails into his back.

He practically sprinted off and returned in record time, his hair still dripping and plastered to his head. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and yanked me down the main hallway.

We made several twists and turns before finally finding an office with a door that wasn't locked.

I had a brief moment of feeling bad for whoever used this office, but it didn't last.

He shoved me onto the desk and kissed me intensely, his hands winding through my hair. After several minutes, he stepped back and studied me with a dark expression on his face.

I was both terrified and incredibly turned on.

"Let me remind you," he said in a low voice, "of the rules." He stepped forward and tugged my shirt up over my head. "First," he continued, "you are not to speak unless you're responding to a direct question. You will answer any question I ask honestly." He yanked my bra off and pinched my nipples. "Second, you will do everything I tell you to do. You will do it the exact moment I finish speaking. You will not question me."

His hands moved down and unbuttoned my jeans, pulling them off. "Third and final rule – you can't come until I give you permission." He glanced up at me. "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Stand up and take your panties off."

I stood immediately, but held my index finger up. It had grown to be one of our signs for a sort-of time out on activity. He nodded, acknowledging me.

"I love you," I said, moving to him and kissing him intensely. "And I am so fucking proud of you." When I stepped back he was smiling. He reached forward and lightly tugged on one of my curls, the love and pride in his eyes flooring me.

Without another word, I dropped my panties to the floor and kicked them away.

"Step into the middle of the room."

He walked around me slowly, his eyes crawling over every inch of me. Finally, he came back in front of me. "I didn't say you could smile." He was scowling as his eyes met mine. I immediately dropped the expression, but it wasn't quite enough.

"Turn around."

Once I was out of sight I winced a bit, guessing at what was to come.

He pushed my upper body down onto the desk and after a moment his hand slapped my ass incredibly hard. I bit my lip to keep from yelling. That would only make things worse.

Instead of hitting me again, he surprised me by beginning to lightly rub where he'd just slapped. "I'm going to be nice, Elizabeth," he said gently. "I know you're pleased by my victory tonight and that's why you were smiling. What do you say to that?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," he murmured, bending over me to kiss my shoulder. I could feel him pressing against me, his erection still covered by the rough fabric of his pants. "Spread your legs."

I did as best I could with his body weight pressed against mine. I was rewarded when I felt his fingers begin to stroke me with pressure that was barely-there. I nearly pushed my hips down onto his hand before I remembered that I would end up paying for that dearly.

"Do you like this?"

"Yes."

"Could it be better?"

Oh shit. I hesitated, and he stopped stroking me and slapped my ass again. "Answer honestly, Elizabeth. Could it be better?"

"Yes."

"Ungrateful slut," he snapped. "I try to give you a bit of pleasure and you tell me it's not good enough."

"I'm sorry," I said immediately before I gave it conscious thought.

He slapped me again. "I didn't ask you a question," he snarled. I kept silent this time.

"You're not sorry yet," he continued after a few moments of silence. "But you will be."


	4. Chapter 4

I knew I was in trouble when he ripped the cord from the phone and had me bring my hands behind my back.

He didn't tie them tightly enough to cut off circulation, but they were snug enough that moving them at all was a problem.

Then, he simply waited behind me. He didn't move. The only sounds I heard were him breathing.

I always hated these moments the worst out of anything else he did. He knew this, as I had foolishly told him one night as we were cuddled together in bed. It was the opposite of anticipation; it was waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was waiting to see what horror fell on my head next.

This time it wasn't so bad. After several minutes he reached out and began to stroke me again, his fingers pressing harder. I closed my eyes and got lost in the sensation, trying not to move or make any noise.

Finally, I was panting loudly and doing my best to keep myself from coming. He knew that.

"Do you have something you want to ask me?" He said calmly.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"May I please come now?"

"No," he replied, rubbing me faster. "No, you may not."

I bit back a whimper of frustration, relieved when he continued on for only a few more seconds before pulling away.

"Stand up."

He turned me around to face him and then pushed my shoulders so I was sitting on the desk. Smiling wickedly, he got down on his knees and began sucking on my clit with incredible pressure, his tongue rapidly flicking against it.

My whole body was trembling. The pleasure was too intense; I wouldn't be able to hold back, I wouldn't be able to stop it.

He sensed that and pulled away. "Do you have something you want to ask me?" He repeated.

"Yes," I said in a strangled voice.

"What is it?"

"May I please come now?"

He looked at me, considering the question. "No."

He shoved me so that I was lying on my back on the desk. I heard him unzip his pants and pull them down. "I'm going to fuck you," he said conversationally, running the tip of his cock through my lips and lightly teasing against my opening. "You may moan – quietly."

The first thrust deep inside of me pushed me to my absolute edge. My body tensed completely and I vaguely heard Dean mutter something along the lines of "Holy fuck."

He quickly recovered. "Elizabeth," he said sternly. "You are not to come. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

He began thrusting slowly and the intensity of the sensation subsided a little. He reached down with his thumb and stroked my clit to bring me back to the edge. I couldn't moan; I simply whimpered with desperation.

"Do you have something you want to ask me?" He punctuated each word with a rough thrust.

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"May I please come now? Please?"

He studied my face and, with great tenderness, swept some of the hair out of my eyes. "No, baby," he murmured, thrusting completely inside of me. "Not yet."

Tears of defeat and anguish found their way to my eyes. He'd never done it for this long before.

He pulled away roughly and yanked me to my feet, bringing me around to the other side of the desk. He sat in the desk chair and patted his lap wordlessly.

I sank down onto him, feeling hunger and relief and frustration all at once. He quickly worked me into a frantic rhythm, his hands on my hips and his mouth sucking and licking at my nipples.

As I tightened once more and began moving faster, he brought his hand down to stroke my clit rapidly.

I both hated and loved him in that moment.

"Ask," he instructed with his mouth still around my nipple.

"May I please come now?"

He didn't answer immediately and my body started to shake even more with the effort of holding back.

"Yes," he finally said.

I nearly screamed with relief as the most intense orgasm of my life rolled over me. Dean held my hips tightly to keep me from falling backwards, his fingers still strumming at my clit and his hips thrusting up into me.

I could vaguely feel him throbbing inside of me, which only sent me tumbling over the cliff harder.

"Fuck," I could hear him groaning, his voice breaking through the incoherent jumble of pleasure in my head. "Oh God, oh fuck, holy fucking shit, oh baby…baby…."

His feet were drumming on the floor, his hands gripping my hips to the point where it was almost painful, and I felt him fill me.

We both collapsed, sweaty and exhausted.

"I'm going to need another shower," he said after a few minutes of holding me tightly against his chest.

I'd felt him slowly soften until he was no longer inside of me, an absolute tidal wave of cum following and hitting his lap.

"Me too," I yawned, nuzzling my face against his neck. He turned slightly to kiss my forehead, reaching behind me to free my hands. I glanced around the room as he plopped the cord back on the desk.

"We'll need to clean this up, too," I said, vaguely gesturing in the direction of papers that had been strewn on the floor during our excursion on the desk.

"In a minute," he murmured, pulling me back into his arms. His hands moved up and down my back soothingly. "I fucking love you, Lizzy," he said thoughtfully. I had to laugh.

"I fucking love you, Dean." I glanced up at him. "Why so serious about it?"

He shrugged. "I know you don't necessarily enjoy that. But you do it for me anyway."

"You don't necessarily enjoy doing the dishes, but you do those for me anyway," I countered. "And did you miss how hard you just made me come?"

He grinned. "No. No, I was completely present for that."

I shook my head and kissed him on the mouth. "I do enjoy that," I admitted. "I like it when you tell me what to do."

He kissed me again, a small smile still on his lips. We were soon kissing each other frantically, wrapped entirely in each other's arms.

He broke away. "I don't think I can again," he panted. "Not yet."

I smiled and kissed him once more. "I'm still a little too sensitive," I admitted.

He stroked my hair back from my face. "Later tonight," he promised.

"Later tonight," I agreed. I hesitated before adding, "You will let me come when I feel the urge this time, right?"

He laughed. "As long as you don't try to tell me again that I don't know how to please you," he teased.


	5. Chapter 5

I watched Dean weave up to the bar to get another round of drinks and I couldn't help but smile. He deserved this joy, this triumph, so fucking much.

Seth noticed me watching him and lightly touched my arm. "Everything back to normal? You both seem happy."

I nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Things have calmed down a bit."

"_You_'ve calmed down a bit," Roman interrupted. "And thank Christ, baby girl, because that shit was brutal."

I laughed, although I felt tightness in my chest. I hated to be reminded of just how nuts I'd actually been for a bit there.

"You should be used to me by now," I replied dismissively, although I was grinning. I glanced back at Dean one last time, who was waiting for the drinks and smiling down at his phone, before I turned my attention completely to the boys.

We were laughing and joking by the time Dean came back, pressing a beer into my hand and kissing the side of my head before he sat down.

The rest of the night passed without incident, although Dean's phone was constantly going off and he had to step outside of the noisy bar to take several calls.

I wasn't annoyed. I was still filled with an indescribable sense of pride. I knew that it wasn't my own accomplishment, but Dean had worked so hard to get here.

If it was possible, I loved him even more fiercely in those moments. I loved him for rising up from that broken child into this strong man who achieved things no one ever thought he could.

I…was drunk, I realized with a small laugh at myself.

I felt a warm, familiar hand on my shoulder and reached up to cover it with my own. "You ready to go home?" Dean asked in my ear. "I still owe you a little bit of fun."

That was all he needed to say for me to remove my ass from that seat and say my goodbyes.

We moved slower this time; we held each other tightly and made love instead of fucking. Our orgasms weren't as intense, but we each managed to have one before dropping off into sleep, nestled in each other's arms.

He was gone when I woke up, the patio door cracked and a small stream of sunlight filtering in through the gap in curtains. Smoke break.

I rolled over and tried to fall back asleep, but Dean's phone was buzzing every few minutes right next to my head.

Annoyed, I reached out of the covers and grabbed it, pulling it to me with the intention of turning it on silent.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the next text message pop up.

'I'm sorry that she couldn't satisfy you like I did, though.'

The name attached to this message was Becky.

My blood ran cold.


	6. Chapter 6

Shaking slightly, I opened up the thread and read everything.

He had been texting her all night. She started the conversation by congratulating him on his victory. Fine.

Then she'd asked a sly question about how he was celebrating. The long gap in his answer must have been when we were in that poor unsuspecting fool's office.

He confirmed as much with his reply, and they chatted normally for a bit.

The part that stabbed me directly in the heart was when he started talking about the sex we'd been having.

'She's so unwilling to do that kind of stuff,' he complained. 'Not really into it at all. She interrupts me for silly things – tonight she stopped me to tell me she loved me – and it just takes me right out of the whole scene, ya know?'

Becky confirmed that she did, indeed, know. 'That's one thing we were always good at,' she added.

That stupid fuck took that particular ball and ran with it. 'Yes we were. I'll never forget that night in San Antonio. Still think about it sometimes to get me going.'

I'd seen enough, but I couldn't stop reading. Not even when he texted her again after we'd made love and complained about how boring that was.

"Babe, what are you doing awa…."

He trailed off as he saw his phone in my shaking hands, the alarm on his face enough confirmation for me that he knew that he was a fucking idiot.

"Are you serious?" I asked flatly, trying hard to keep tears from rolling down my face. "Are you _fucking_ serious with this bullshit?"

He froze, multiple warring emotions crossing his face. I couldn't stand it for another second; I had to get out of that room.

I threw his phone at his chest, hard. "Text her about _this_," I snapped, pausing only to pick up my purse and the clothes I'd thrown on the floor the night before.

I walked out the door without so much as a glance back. I was afraid that if I looked, I'd start crying. I refused to do that.

I ducked into a hidden alcove by the vending machines and put on my clothes so I wasn't wandering the hotel in my pajamas. Then I considered my options.

I was far too angry to even think about talking to that numbskull. He would go looking for me in Seth or Roman's rooms. I looked up and saw the sign directly across from me that pointed to the hotel gym.

I shrugged. It was as good a place as any to be pissed off.

When I walked in, the place was empty. Good. I didn't think I could handle even a passing attempt at politeness at the moment.

I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, uncertain. Should I just plop down on the weight bench and sob, hoping that anyone who wanted a workout asked me to work in their sets?

I spied a door for the ladies' locker room over in the corner and went there instead. At least there'd be a bench in there that no one would ask me to move from while I had my heart ripped out of my chest.

I tried with all of my effort to simply keep moving. I knew the minute I stopped that I was going to lose the little composure I still had.

As a pleasant surprise, there was a sign telling me that the sauna was available for use. What the hell, I thought. A small, hot, windowless room was as close an approximation to Hell as I was going to get physically here on Earth and it certainly reflected my state of mind.

I listlessly stowed my belongings, undressed, and wrapped myself in one of the towels they provided. I was still blissfully alone and incredibly grateful for that.

I expected to start crying the moment I sat down. I didn't. I was clenching my fists so tightly that my nails left crescent-shaped marks in the skin of my palms, but I did not cry.

"Keep it together," I muttered to myself.

I rested my head against the wooden wall as the steam rose up and tried to think as clearly as I could.

Becky. Fucking _Becky_. Why did it have to be her? Why was he even speaking to her? I hadn't heard him utter her name in years. And, furthermore, why was he telling her all of these hurtful things about our sex life, things he wouldn't even hint were a problem to me?

What the actual fuck?

Part of me wanted to believe that this was a fucked-up dream. The other part of me, a small voice in the back of my head, warned me that I must have known this would happen. Things had been too good for the past few years. There hadn't been any major catastrophes in a long time.

It would seem that I was due.


	7. Chapter 7

I finally emerged from the small, steamy box with a slightly increased sense of well-being. This evaporated nearly immediately upon my return to my possessions. My phone had been ringing with calls back to reality in my bag the whole time I was away from it.

The final count – fourteen missed calls from Dean, three each from Seth and Roman, and one from Leigh.

He was calling in everybody he thought I would contact, apparently.

As I stood there, Ro called again. Against my better judgment, I picked this one up.

"Are you ok?" He asked immediately, the concern apparent in his voice.

"I'm fine. I just want to be alone." My voice sounded calm. It was astounding. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. I could hear Dean in the background, demanding the phone from Roman. "If you put him on, I'm hanging up and I won't answer any more phone calls." My voice still sounded calm, even as I started to seethe internally at the mere sound of his voice.

"I understand," Ro said slowly. "You don't have to talk to him. Do you want to talk to me?"

My eyes started stinging with tears for the first time this hellacious morning. "I will. But not right now."

"Ok baby girl," he replied easily. "Are you going to be at the show tonight? Or are you going home for a bit?"

I shook my head. The night after Money in the Bank? Paul would have my head. Dean's timing, as always, left something to be desired.

"No, I'll be there."

"Good. We're leaving in an hour. Let me know if you want to ride with us, ok?"

"I will." I paused. "Can you keep him out of my room for a bit? I just want to get my stuff."

"Yes," he replied blandly, I guessed to keep Dean from racing up to the room to wait for me. I loved him for it.

"Thanks." I said my goodbyes and hung up, preparing myself to look at the text messages that had been dinging in my ear the entire time I'd been speaking with Roman.

'I'm so sorry, please talk to me.' I could feel myself sneer in disgust in response.

'Really? You're not even going to try. That's fucked up.'

'Come on Liz. We need to talk about this.'

'Fine. I'm not going to chase you down. Talk to me when you're ready.'

I could practically hear the annoyance in his voice on that last one, and it pissed me off beyond measure. Who the fuck did he think he was? And what the fuck did he think gave _him_ the right to be annoyed that I didn't want to prance right in and make up with him?

I flipped my phone off, my anger renewed.

"You fucking idiot," I muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

Exhaustion crept up on me as I was nearly at the arena.

I hadn't sleep long until the shitshow that was my day began, and after everything I was simply worn out.

I'd managed to pull everything I needed out of the hotel room and avoid Dean as well, which had been nice. I texted Roman quickly to thank him and Seth again and explain that I'd take care of my own ride to the next town.

It had been a long, lonely drive.

When I finally arrived to the arena, I made a beeline for the coffee machine. Then I threw myself into work.

I was vaguely aware of Roman and Seth arriving and pulling Paul out to speak with him privately for a little while. Paul then watched me very closely, but I refused to acknowledge that.

It was one of the hazards of working with a couple. Fights were bound to happen. I refused to elaborate any further while we were on the clock. When we were on our own time, it was different. But I promised a long time ago – when I first returned to be Paul's assistant GM – that I wouldn't be dragging my personal life to the office like I did the first time.

Dean apparently didn't get the memo. I eventually became aware of him standing outside our office, arms crossed over his chest and legs crossed at the ankle, leaning against the wall and watching me.

I ignored him. I wasn't getting sucked into this drama at work.

"Liz," Paul said softly. I looked up, surprised to see him holding out a tissue. I took it, puzzled, and only then felt the tears that had been trickling down my face.

"Thanks," I replied, wiping my cheeks roughly and turning back towards what I'd been working on.

After several minutes, Paul stood and went out to talk to Dean in a low, calm voice.

"I'm not leaving," Dean's voice broke into my thoughts, loud and angry. "Not until I get to talk to her."

"She's obviously incredibly upset right now, and you being here isn't helping that. Go and get ready. Talk to her after the night is over."

"Paul, butt the fuck out," Dean replied, annoyed.

I closed my eyes and tried hard to focus on what was in front of me again. No. I wasn't getting into this right now. Not at work. Not after it had taken so many years of hard work to rebuild my reputation here.

I heard the door to our office close and was grateful to Paul for taking away the distraction. "Thanks," I said without turning to look.

"You're so welcome, _sweetheart_."

I froze. "Get out," I said flatly.

"No."

"Now. I'm not kidding."

"Neither am I," he replied, sounding closer than before. His hand came and swept away the mound of paperwork in front of me angrily and he slammed his fist down on the desk.

I jumped, startled, and glared up into his face, finally meeting eyes that were just as pissed off as I'm sure mine were.

"What do you say we try to be adults here?" He asked, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head.

"Adults by screaming at each other at work? Adults by barging into offices and throwing shit around?" I could feel myself getting increasingly agitated with every word I said to him. "Do you have any _concept_ of what acting like an adult is?"

"Doesn't it mean _communicating_ with your fiancé when you have a problem?" He snapped.

"Oh, you mean like you did when you apparently had this huge problem with our sex life?"

I'd caught him on that one. His mouth moved soundlessly for a few moments. I nodded. "Yeah, I fucking thought so. Pot, meet kettle. Don't start this shit with me right now Dean, I am serious."

His mouth snapped shut. "I love you," he finally said after a few moments.

"Don't." I shook my head. "Those aren't magic words, and they don't fix a goddamn thing." I bent to pick up my paperwork so he wouldn't see me get upset again. "Now get the fuck out."

He stood there for a moment. "When will you be ready to talk about this?" He finally asked, some of the heat leaving his voice.

"I don't know," I replied, sitting up and shuffling through the paperwork again.

"Don't tell me that you're going to walk down the aisle still upset with me."

"Of course not," I snapped. "I'm seriously considering not walking down it at all."

I could practically feel the air get sucked out of the room as I finally verbalized the thought that had been plaguing me all day.

"Are we done here?" I asked around the lump in my throat, still shuffling through papers I could no longer see with eyes blurred by tears.

He didn't say anything. He simply reached out and lightly touched the back of my hand, his fingers trailing over mine before he left abruptly.


	9. Chapter 9

Miraculously, I made it through the rest of the show without incident. Dean left me alone. The only time I saw him was when I watched him wrestle on the monitor backstage.

He was completely off of his game.

'Good,' I thought viciously, and then immediately felt awful for it.

Paul wandered up and stood beside me, hands in his pocket in a desperate attempt to be casual. "This one's bad, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Yeah. It is."

"Are you guys going to be ok?"

I shrugged. "I really don't know." I paused. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet."

We stood in silence for a few minutes, our sightless eyes glued to the television. "Will you be ok if I take some time off?" I finally asked.

Paul hesitated. "It really is serious, isn't it?"

I glanced over at him. "Yeah, it is," I repeated.

He studied me for a few minutes, his face unreadable. "How long?"

"Just a week."

He nodded. "I don't think that will be a problem. Will you still be available if I need you back?"

"Sure," I replied, indifferent. I didn't have any idea yet where I would be, but I was relatively sure that I wouldn't get so engrossed in something that catching a plane would be impossible.

"Why don't you go ahead now? Get an early start."

Dean had just been pinned by Sami Zayn on our screen. I realized why he was cutting me loose right then, and I appreciated it.

I'd had enough of him for one night.

In spite of that, I was still sitting numbly in my rental car with no clue of where to go when he knocked on my window.

I almost didn't respond, but then he knocked lightly again. I turned the car key just enough for the accessories and rolled down my window.

"Where are you headed?"

I shook my head. "Don't know."

"Want company?"

"Not really."

He sighed and squatted beside my window, resting his arms on the door. I kept my head straight forward, not wanting to look at him.

We were silent for a long time.

"Why her?" I finally asked when I couldn't take it anymore. "Why did it have to be her?"

He sighed again and rested his forehead on his arms. "I think you forget that she was my longest relationship besides you."

"It was a sham," I reminded him.

"Sometimes it was. Other times it wasn't."

I glanced over at him, curious. His eyes were studying me from just above his forearms, the rest of his face obscured.

"There were times when I didn't think I'd be with you. There were times when I hated you and didn't want to be with you. Then there were those times you gave me hope. She was there through all of those."

I narrowed my eyes. "She also kidnapped me, cheated on you, and tried to pin another man's baby on you."

He looked uncomfortable. "We all do stupid things for love."

I snorted derisively. "Well, I'm so sorry to have stood in the way of true love all this time."

"You haven't."

"Could have fooled me. You could be off having San-Antonio-worthy-sex every night." I turned to him and was barely able to spit out the next words through my tears. "Instead you're just stuck with boring, stupid me. That dumb bitch who pauses your fun to tell you how much she loves you. What a horrible life you lead."

He looked at me with sorrow and regret, and I just couldn't take it in that moment. Without giving it any thought I started the car and backed out fast, the tires squealing on the pavement. He jumped back quickly enough so that I didn't hit him.

The last glimpse of him I caught was in my rearview mirror, standing in the road running his hands back through his hair.


	10. Chapter 10

He called me twenty minutes later.

I didn't pick up.

I was driving down a deserted stretch of highway, completely unsure where my final destination was and trying hard to focus on that instead of the fact that my life was falling apart.

The calls became a continuous stream, broken by a single text message.

'I'm not going to stop calling.'

I rolled my eyes. The next time the phone rang, I picked up and simply said "Driving," before hanging up again.

'Please come back here,' the next text said. 'Stop running. Let's just get this over with.'

I pulled into a rest area, parked, and sobbed for what felt like hours, my head pressed against my hands, which were gripping the wheel tightly.

The phone rang again, and I was too much of a mess to answer it.

Finally, as my sobs became further and further apart, the phone rang again.

I'd never been so happy to see Roman's name in my life.

I picked up and began babbling quickly until he forced me to take a few deep breaths and tell him what the hell was happening.

"I…I think we're done, Ro," I said, the words terrifying me. "I really think we're done."

"Tell her to get her ass back here," I heard Dean say, muffled in the background.

"Hang on, baby girl." Ro's hand must have covered the speaker. I didn't hear anything until Dean's voice came on the line.

"Listen to me, Elizabeth," he said sternly, although with a note of compassion. "This has gone way too far. I'm not leaving you, and I'm not _allowing you_ to leave me. If you try to give me that ring back, I'll chase you to the end of the world to put it back on your finger."

I actually felt something loosen in my chest, a tight knot of fear that had been holding me hostage all day.

"So then why did this happen, Dean?" I asked.

He was quiet for a long while, and I heard him inhale deeply and then exhale. He was smoking. "Can we please discuss this in person?"

"No."

He lapsed back into silence briefly. "I guess it's normal to get accustomed to your partner. We've been together a long time, and we were on-and-off before that. I can't explain it, Lizzy. Not beyond the fact that this wedding is scaring the ever-loving bejesus out of me and I did something that I shouldn't have."

I rested my head against the headrest, my worst fear confirmed.

"You don't want to marry me," I said flatly.

"No, I do want to marry you." He surprised me by saying. "I want it more than anything. That's what terrifies me. It's going to be so easy for me to fuck this up." He paused. "If you think for a minute that crazy bitch ever held a candle to you, I've done you a huge disservice in explaining how I feel about you."

"Dean –"

"You are _everything_ to me," he interrupted. "Do you understand? I'm not me without you. I wasn't lying when I told you that the first time. You are the first – the only – woman I have ever loved, and you'll be the last. Whether you decide to stay or not. If you leave, my heart goes with you."

I fell silent for a long while, considering. "You'll be ok with boring sex?" I asked, trying to keep the spite out of my voice. I didn't quite make it.

"I shouldn't have ever said that, and I don't know why I did. You are anything but boring."

"Be honest with me, Dean. I don't want us to figure out five years down the road that this was a mistake and we should have walked away."

He hesitated. "There are specific things we can discuss once you come home."

"I'm not coming home until I know that I'll be staying there."

"Why are you being such a hard-head about this?"

"Because I'm pregnant."


	11. Chapter 11

Dean fell silent, and I immediately regretted saying it.

"When did you know?"

I closed my eyes. "Yesterday morning. I didn't want to distract you before your match."

"Christ, Lizzy," he said quietly. "Jesus Christ. Are you sure?"

Sick tears began falling down my face. He wasn't taking this well at all.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Why didn't you…why…when…?"

I'd never heard him this flustered.

"Where are you?" He finally settled on.

I told him the name of the rest area, and he told me not to move. I don't even want to think about how fast he drove, because he was there in ten minutes, pulling up beside me and climbing out of the car.

He opened my door and offered me his hand. I took it reluctantly, preparing for the tongue lashing of a lifetime and the questions on how I could be so irresponsible.

Instead, he bent and kissed me intensely. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine.

"Is that the reason you've been a psycho the last few weeks?" He finally asked.

"It's a distinct possibility," I admitted.

"Can I tell you the truth?"

"Yes. Please."

"You weren't you. It scared me. It made me wonder what I was getting into. Becky…that was a cheap and easy way to relive my glory days. I know, it sounds stupid as hell, because it is. It was the idea that I was losing my independence, losing myself to become a part of this Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose conglomerate."

He kissed my forehead lightly. "Seth reminded me tonight that that particular process happened a long time ago. I missed the boat on that last hurrah thing. We're already so much a part of each other. We always have been."

He gently pushed me back from him to look me in the eye. "There is nothing in this world I'd rather have than you."

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him. "Do you promise?"

"I swear on my life. And Roman's."

That son-of-a-bitch. I tried, and failed, to swallow down my laugh. He grinned, his dimples etching into his face.

After a moment, the smile fell off of his face and he reached out to lightly touch my stomach. I couldn't read the expression on his face.

"Everything's going to change now," he said, running his fingers over me.

"It certainly will," I agreed. "Are you ok?"

He looked up at me through a curtain of hair. "I'm scared out of my mind."

I nodded. "Me too."


	12. Chapter 12

In the end, we both wore jeans to our wedding.

We stopped at the nearest county courthouse. Seth, Roman, Leigh, and Paul were our witnesses. We put rings on each other's fingers and said words that we already knew to be true in our hearts.

Until death do us part.


End file.
